Failure Limerick, Part the Last

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There was a Cubs pitcher named Schlitter

Paid to retire big league hitters 

But he failed at this task

At Triple-A he did bask

So the Cubs sent him off to the Sh!tter

I wrote a number of failure limericks about Brian Schlitter during the 2014 Cubs season, which I hope will go down as the final year of their awfulness. The word that he is being designated for assignment–basically let go if nobody else wants to trade for him–makes me sad, a little bit. He had the most limerick-worthy name I have ever seen, and I’m not sure who will take his place in this regard. So this was my parting limerick, and it comes with the hope that wherever he pitches next, someone will recognize the limerickability of his name. I think I just created a word there, too!

I was once a Cardinals fan

  • Can't go there anymore, April 14

Forty years ago, I was a fan of the St. Louis Cardinals. My dad took me to my first baseball game–a doubleheader against the Mets at the old Busch Stadium in St. Louis–in late July of 1975. It was the most exciting thing I had yet experienced in life, and the result was a love for baseball that continues to this day.

My time as a Cardinals fan was brief, however. I found the Cubs and Wrigley Field on a TV broadcast in late September of 1975, and they have been my choice team ever since. I couldn’t watch the Cardinals on TV in those days, and that was enough to shift my loyalties to the team from the north.

Had I remained a Cardinals fan, which there are more of than Cubs fans in the city I grew up in, life would be different, I’m sure. The Cardinals are accustomed to winning, and their success makes them the red yang to the Cubs’ blue yin.

This season could offer more of the same, as the Cardinals have the best record in the game, and the Cubs are trying to chase them down over the last six weeks of the season and into the playoffs. However it turns out, I’ll always look back at that short two-month period in 1975 as an example of how life can bring about changes.

And with that in mind, go Cubs!

A bleachers retrospective

Hearing that the Cubs started tearing down the Wrigley Field bleachers today felt like the end of something for me. From the first time I sat in the bleachers back in 1987, to the last time I did so back in 2005, they were always a place where I felt good. Granted, a fair amount of this was alcohol-induced, but not all of it was. It was the place to be, if you wanted to have the full-on Wrigley experience. And I certainly did that, for the better part of my adult life.

I went there in the 1980s with the college girl who later became my wife. I celebrated opening day there at least a couple of times, and saw both Ryne Sandberg and Andre Dawson receive their Wrigley sendoffs there. I went there with my brother, and friends of all varieties, and even went by myself on a few occasions. I took my two young daughters the last time I was there, even though it never was a very kid-friendly place. Simply put, it was my home away from home, and the place I wanted to be whenever I had the chance to go. And now it’s gone.

Whatever comes along to take its place, it can’t be what it once was to me. And that’s probably all for the best, since everything changes and evolves over time.

Here are a few pictures of or from the bleachers:

Dad is a Cardinals fan, so of course I had to become a Cubs fan, instead

WrigleyScoreboard

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Torco

Wrigley Football

Springsteen's Wrigley shows were amazing. Hope he comes back soon

Dawson

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Wrigleyscoreboard

Tuffy

Thanks for the memories!

A century with the Cubs (some of them, anyway)

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Back in the early days of this season, I was asked by WrigleyvilleNation to write something about a Cubs players for each decade from the 1910s to the present. Since I enjoy writing and telling stories, especially about baseball and the Cubs, I started off with a piece about a long-forgotten pitcher named Claude Hendrix. The rest of the pieces are as follows:

1920s: Gabby Hartnett

1930s: Kiki Cuyler

1940s: Emil Verban

1950s: Chuck Tanner

1960s: Lou Brock

1970s: Bruce Sutter

1980s: Gary Matthews

1990s: Gary Gaetti

2000s: Mark Prior

I don’t think I ever linked to any of these stories here before, so here’s a century worth of Cubs, from All-Stars and Hall of Famers to guys who had more esoteric careers.

They all played the game–and played it for my team–so there’s some thread that binds them all together. And none of them ever won a World Series, either, at least not with the Cubs. And that’s what really binds us fans together right now.

A lifetime of following the Cubs

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I recently had an opportunity to take in a beautiful view of the Chicago skyline, Lake Michigan, and Wrigley Field at the same time. I enjoyed them all, but the one shot that I wanted to have with me in it was the Wrigley Field vista. That speaks volumes as to who I am, really.

I started following the Cubs by watching their games on WGN, Channel 9 in Chicago. The first time I tuned in was late in the 1975 season, when I was seven years old. And now, almost forty years later, I realize that it has been a large part of my identity over the years and decades. There aren’t too many things in life that are more deeply-seated than my attachment to the Cubs.

And they’ve disappointed me in so many ways over the years. Losing is the most obvious way, which forces me to watch while baseball’s other teams taste success instead. And even when they win, it’s just a prelude to more losing in the end.

After so many years and so many disappointments, I am, quite frankly, embittered. I have no faith in the rebuilding process that has been going on since 2012. I don’t think it will pay off with the championship that I and other Cubs fans are craving, at least not in my lifetime. And if it happens after I’m gone, what’s the point?

I don’t have any terminal diseases that I know off, and it’s not like I’m expecting to die anytime soon. That’s not the motivation for writing this. It’s just that every season should be treated as though it will be the last because for many fans, that’s exactly what it is.

A Cubs fan just like me will probably die over the next week. I won’t know who it is, but they’ll be a victim of this process of a still unknown duration. The younger men than I am who run this team can afford to take the long view of the process. The rest of us–who just want to see it once before we pass from this earth–don’t have that luxury.

In Technicolor

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Today I was futzing around with an app called Photo Booth on the laptop, and found that smiling for pictures just looked dumb. They were forced smiles, after all. But when I glared at the camera, the images seemed to turn out better. Funny how that works.

Having recently seen The Birdcage in the aftermath of Robin Williams’ death, I recalled a scene where Nathan Lane’s character was dressed in a suit, but when he crossed his legs it revealed the bright pink socks that he was wearing. His response was perfect: “One does want a hint of color.”

So to take the edge off of my glaring visage, I added an effect called “Pop art.” The result, in my mind, is the Technicolor Badass shown above. And now that it’s online, it can live forever. The internet is an amazing thing, indeed.

The good and the bad in life

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It’s been a while since I’ve done this, and that makes me a little bit sad. So much has happened that I want to say a few words about: the loss of Robin Williams, the bullshit–and there’s no other word I’ll use to describe it–that’s been happening in Ferguson, Missouri, the little things that have been happening in my life this summer, and whatever other thoughts pop into my head from time to time.

But instead, there’s nothing new going on here lately.

I still write things on occasion, mostly about the Chicago Cubs. With so many places to focus energy and attention, for some reason I keep coming back to that subject. I don’t understand it, but there it is.

The world can lift your spirits and break your heart, sometimes both in the same day. And if a moment or an event isn’t fixed for posterity in some way, it’s just gone. My blog is a defense against that, in some small and meaningless way. I don’t put multiple posts within the same day here anymore, but I will continue on with posting a few words from time to time.

Robin Williams was Yang, and police in riot gear shooting at unarmed Americans was Yin. We have both in this world and always will. And this blog is my humble attempt at acknowledging both.